The Bug

Well, there's a bug going around. I could hear our downstairs neighbors hurling late into the night. And then sometime around 3am Violet woke up coughing and crying. I woke up to go get her, without putting on my glasses because I figured it was just a little nightmare, or perhaps she bumped her head on the side of her crib when she rolled over, or...MAYBE, she woke up because of our neighbors violent vomiting, and the constant flushing of the toilet and running of the sink. Either way I wasn't expecting anything big. Mistake.

I walked into her dark room and reached down into the crib for my baby girl and put my hand right into warm slimy throw up slowly seeping its way down her onsie. Horrified because I still didn't really know what was going on (being half asleep and such) I flipped the switch and shed light onto what honestly looked like a horror scene.

Vomit. Everywhere.
I mean seriously everywhere.
Was she jumping up and down in her crib just spewing throw up everywhere? Because there just wasn't any other explanation. I went to go put my glasses on, which just made the scene worse, and summoned my poor sleeping husband who had work in just 3 1/2 hours to help me because... there was so much.

Poor Violet.
Vomit all over her blankets and crib. In her hair. Down her onsie. All over her hands. Her face. In her ears. All over her favorite toy she sleeps with. In her socks. On the walls. On the carpet.

I ended up just putting her (and myself afterwards) in the bath with her onsie on and just rinsing her off with warm water before stripping her down and getting to the slime in between her toes, in her belly button and clinging to her hair. She was such a champ through all of it. I cleaned the bath out and refilled it with clean warm water and vanilla scented bubbles while Cristian stripped down her bed, disinfected the crib, cleaned the walls and carpet and her baby doll and selected some clean pj's and panties for her. She just sat in the warm water playing with bubbles for a while, my sweetheart made his way back to bed, and eventually I turned up the heat and got her out of the tub and into clean clothes.

We ended up just staying up, cuddling on the twin bed which fills the other side of her room, reading "Marvin The Ape", and listening to some primary songs on YouTube. The vomiting wasn't over but luckily every time it happened she made it to the bucket I had placed beside the bed. At about 9am she seemed to be back to normal and by noon was out cold for several hours.

Maybe some are wondering why I would post such a gross experience, and I guess it's because I want to document the hard times along with all the good. It isn't always sunshine and daisies over here but this experience really made me think about how much being a mother has made me grow in funny little ways.
2 years ago you wouldn't be able to find me within a mile radius of vomit. And if I was, by some strange reason, I would end up throwing up just by being near it.

It also made me think back to when my family and I lived in a house which must have been built in the 70's because of the shag carpet. I can remember my sweet daddy down on his knees with a plate and knife LITERALLY scraping vomit from deep in between the long carpet strands. Sorry dad!! I smiled because THANK GOODNESS we do NOT have shag carpet.

Oh memories!